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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963793">Gin &amp; Secrets (safe and otherwise)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomed_spectacles/pseuds/doomed_spectacles'>doomed_spectacles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Banter, Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Crowley's Mona Lisa Original, Drunken Confessions, Holy Water, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:42:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963793</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomed_spectacles/pseuds/doomed_spectacles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Secrets had a way of coming out over gin, he thought, then immediately told Aziraphale his secrets. All but one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Name That Author Round Five: After Dark Redux</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gin &amp; Secrets (safe and otherwise)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the Name That Author challenge. The prompt: "There is a door that should never be open. It's open."</p><p>Rated T for one swear and alcohol use.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I got it from a nuclear arms safety company, y’know. All the rage these days.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley said “nuclear” again, slowly, each syllable a struggle on his forked tongue. “Nuclear arms race calls for safety! This is a Hell of a decade, the 1980s, and I should know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That. See?” He pointed with his glass, swaying. “A nuclear bomb could go off in there and you’d barely hear it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why exactly,” Aziraphale said, also swaying and pointing at the wall, “would a nuclear bomb go off in Miss Gioconda’s head?” He took another drink, then pinched his face against the bite of lime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not the picture. The safe.” Crowley topped him up, splashing gin all over his carpet. Secrets had a way of coming out over gin, he thought, then immediately told Aziraphale his secrets. All but one. “Four oh oh four. Easy peasy, squeezy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale’s face was a fish in a bowl, not comprehending the glass in front of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The year. I slithered on up to this world that year. Like a birthdate,” he said, proud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale squinted at the safe, hidden behind that enigmatic smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘S where I keep it. Safe,” Crowley said. The safe spun in his vision, as did the angel sitting on the floor next to him. “Safe. Told you ‘s safe. Insurance.” He hissed on the words, then hiccuped into his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the hiccups subsided, he knew he'd fucked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale's face closed off. All the happy drunk crinkles disappeared from his eyes, replaced by the tired expression of a man with a century-old ache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Angel, don’t- don’t go- ‘s safe!” He didn’t have time to sober up before the door slammed. He didn’t sober up until long after the sound had stopped echoing down the empty hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the safe was swinging open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley turned on the lights with a tired snap, then dimmed them with a second snap when he saw the thin cloud of soot coming off him with every step. Remnants of Aziraphale's treasured books and his beloved car covered him in a layer of ash, a new skin he'd need to shed before choosing his face wisely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mind the, uh, well I guess there's not much left."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale didn't seem to hear. He moved past the crumpled pile on the cement floor and gazed out at the city below. When he turned and saw the open safe, he put his hand to his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowley summoned two full glasses and held one out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No ghosts here, but you look like-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley, you- the flask-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah. Insurance, I told you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale stared, his eyes saucer round.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Used tongs and everything.” Crowley threw back the bourbon, then winced. He changed it to gin. Their last night on earth called for gin and secrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crowley,” Aziraphale said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Angel," Crowley countered. His voice broke on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the safe swung shut with a snap as Aziraphale crossed the gap between them.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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